Pain and Pictures

Chapter 27- Lies

Violet Monroe's POV
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I was furious!

When Lance returned from a stop at the chemist, he stormed into the flat, like he'd seen a threat. At first, I was afraid someone had broken in, but then he threw the rag mag onto the table.

I could not believe it!

How could he? I had trusted him!

"Get the car."

"Vi, I don't think..."

"Get the damn car, Lance!"

He nodded and left. He would text me when it was safe to leave.

I hated always having to hide away. I'd done it for most of my life. It never got any easier.

All I could do was think of Jordan. His betrayal hurt, even worse than the aching in my chest.

I felt dizzy, again. It seemed as though I always felt dizzy lately.

I knew my blood pressure had dropped again. I was getting good at knowing whether it was too high or too low. I grabbed a salt packet. I hated them. But I had to get my pressure back up.

Jordan's quick departure this morning suddenly made much more sense. Of course he'd wanted to leave. He knew what he had done would be unforgivable. I felt... exposed.

I got the text from Lance and locked up on my way out.

Once in the car, I tried to calm my breathing. It wasn't easy.

"Vi? Are you sure about this?"

"Shut up, Lance."

"Yes, ma'am."

When we reached the car park behind the club, where his flat was, I couldn't move. I know I dragged myself here and needed to confront him, but even the thought of seeing him again made me physically ill.

"Are you..."

"Just... just give me a minute."

He (wisely) shut his mouth and turned off the car. It was cold out, but not terrible. It was actually a nice fall day.

Just then I saw him. He burst through the back door. Almost like he knew I was there. But he only looked up at the sky, breathing in.

I knew he suffered from panic attacks, but I couldn't tell if that was what was going on. For all I knew he was running out to celebrate his victory.

My phone rang.

I looked up to see he was on his phone, but when I looked at mine, I saw that it was my wayward brother.

Jordan went back inside while on the phone. Probably another magazine wanting another story.

Bloody wanker.

I answered the phone and had to immediately pull it away from my ear.

"VIOLET?! DID YOU SEE THIS SHIT?!"

Dammit. I should have called him first thing. This hurt him as much as me.

"Calm down, Vic. I have seen it and I'm on my way to confront him right now. I will sort this!"

"He isn't there? With you?"

"No, he left today. Probably because he knew what was going to happen."

"Bloody hell. Where are you? I can handle this. You shouldn't do it in your condition."

"Since when do you give a damn about my condition? All you care about is whether or not I will keep sending you money."

It was a low blow, but I was sick of his attitude. Ever since we found out about our true kinship, he's been asking for money. He has a law degree, but has never used it.

"Thanks, Vi. I see that the money is all you care about. Call me when you decide you want another shoulder to cry on. Or, actually, don't."

He hung up. The prick.

I was ready. Well, not really. But I couldn't stay in the car all day, like a stalker, waiting until my nerves were set. Because that wasn't possible.

Lance got out with me and we went straight to the door. He looked all over, as usual, making sure no one saw me.

Once inside I got a sense of longing. I'd been here, with him just over a week ago. He was charming and annoying all at the same time. He made me laugh.

I had to push myself up the stairs and just stared at the door.

There was yelling. Then what sounded like a struggle. Was he being attacked?

I looked to Lance, eyes wide.

He started banging on the door.

"Backton?! Open up!"

After a few seconds, and more loud knocking, Jordan opened the door.

He looked awful! I'd just seen him a few minutes ago, he looked fine!

"Vi? What..."

"HOW COULD YOU?!"

Even with my fear that he could be hurt, I couldn't forget what he had done. I threw the gossip magazine at his face and stormed in.

Then I saw him.

Michael.

He was on the floor, beaten to a pulp.

Did Jordan do this? How?! Michael was extremely fit and much bigger.

But it was still incredible.

I'd wanted to do the same to him for months! Why was he even here?

"Vi, what the hell is this?"

"Seriously? How can you ask me that? I trusted you!"

He looked at the magazine, his eyes widening and fear rushing in. That's right, you asshole, I'd seen it.

"Did you think that I wouldn't find out? That you could get away with this?"

"Vi, I did not do this."

He spoke slowly, like I was a child. All it did was enrage me more.

I looked down at the cover, it had my picture, one of the many he'd taken this week. Next to it, in bold words...

VIOLET MONROE HAS BASTARD BROTHER. SEE INSIDE FOR DETAILS.